Past in Present
by katachresis
Summary: Five years after Kira takes over the world, he hesitates to judge Tenma for the string of murders of which he is accused. On a whim, he pulls L out of imprisonment to give a second opinion on the case.
1. Chapter 1

New AU-ish fic bunny, will try to keep it a baby bunny.  
Probable pairings: Light/L, Light/Tenma  
Warnings: none yet, but probably a touch of lime in future chapters.  
**Spoilers**: Probably for both.

A/N: Playing fast and loose with the canon for Death Note – L is imprisoned after Kira's victory. It's been five years since, L is bored, and Kira wants a second opinion.

L looked at the files spread out in front of him. Paper rather than the laptops he once had been accustomed to working on. He wouldn't be allowed that kind of concession, even though he posed no threat. Kira had seen to that, in the last five years.

It seemed that not all was well in his utopia, though. L chewed the edge of his thumb as he surveyed the case files that had been delivered that morning with his food.

It had been years since he had done this. Years of the simple but comfortable apartment Kira had sealed him into (another dig, a way to show L that Kira was better than him – showing 'mercy' to his enemies), years of not seeing anyone, not even the people who delivered his food. Years of week-old-newspapers and books and no contact with the outside world. He was dead, a ghost. Though in a way, he had always been. He just had never been this _bored _before.

But the case… oh the case. He turned over a page with two fingers, tilting his head as he read newspaper clippings and police reports. It all seemed so cut-and-dried and gloriously simple – but, but there was some _wrongness_ that screamed along his nerves. They had gotten it wrong. It was a wondering thrill to know that, to see it so clearly. If he had been in charge, the doctor would never have been a suspect.

Kira must have felt it too, he assumed, or the case would never have been delivered to him. Tenma Kenzou would have died and that would be that.

He poured over the accounts they had gotten from the doctor. Snippets here and there. Mention of a name – Johan – the very Europeanness of it all bringing back a stab of memory that he had quite forgotten.

L engrossed himself, so much so that he didn't hear the door opening, or the quiet breathing behind him. Not until the handcuffs landed on the file he was reading with a thud, causing him to start up and whirl around did he realize that Yagami Light – Kira was watching him.

"Put them on." His voice was a slow drawl and L raised an eyebrow slowly. He picked them up with one finger, letting them dangle.

"It's been what, five years now, Light?" He called the other by his _old _name, not his true name. Keeping up the false niceties between them, though they both knew it was a ploy. His voice was soft as he looked at the cuffs, hating them and everything they represented. "I think you've proven that I'm no threat."

"Put them on, L." Unlike L, Kira never played name games. L was L – he was never Ryuzaki or Ryuga anymore. He wondered if Kira meant it to be an insult, in a way – calling him by his detective's code. He would never be "_L_" again, Light wouldn't allow it. To call him "L" might be Kira's way of rubbing that in his face.

He hesitated for another moment before snapping them onto his wrists, binding them in front of himself. He could have challenged Kira. He could have flown at him, probably have taken him down. But how far away could he get in Kira's new world?

Besides, the case was calling him, whispering in the parts of his brain that he had almost forgotten he had. Perhaps he could be "L" again, if only for a moment.

"You're here about the case. Tell me about it." He didn't mean for his voice to be commanding, but he recognized the tone he used, he had used it often in the past.

Light smirked, unfazed by that. He had right to be, L supposed – after all, he had brought L down and been a functional god for years now. "I thought that might pique your interest."

"A rubix cube would have piqued my interest. I've been bored." He admitted, taking his seat again, turning another page with his cuffed hands. "Why haven't you murdered the primary suspect yet?"

"Judged." Kira's voice reproached L mildly – only mild because he had won and they both knew it and he could _afford _to be mild with his enemy now.

"Killed." Idly filling in another synonym, this one less overtly judgmental, but his tone was still laced with subtle contempt and accusation. "Why haven't you? All the evidence points to him."

"It does." The other man's footsteps were soft on the floor, L focusing on them as Kira slowly came around him, inspecting the neat, small apartment. "Do you agree that Tenma Kenzou should die?"

L frowned. Mindgames again, as always. Agree with Kira's methods. Become as jaded as him. Work for him. Build his utopia with him. Submit to being wrong. L hated the idea, wanted to outright refuse to talk to him… but his eyes drifted back down to the file. Kira had caught his interest, and he was too tired of being _bored_ to deny it. "He isn't the culprit."

"How can you be so sure?" Kira asked with a smile, picking up a plate full of brownies, looking at them appraisingly. That was amusing… the devil, playing devil's advocate. L pressed his thumb to his lips, feeling almost like smiling.

"An instinct. You are looking for this Johan, instead."

Kira picked up a small brownie, biting into it. L suppressed a stab of irritation – that was his sugar, damnit. "Johan does not exist."

"Neither do I." L pressed on, logically. "Or have you concealed finding my birth certificate?" It was their last real game. No matter how much power Kira had over his life and death, he had been stubbornly locked out of L's past.

The only response he got was a half-twist to Kira's mouth. He couldn't tell if it was bitterness or amusement or approval.

"Johan Liebert would have been ten when the murders Tenma-sensei is accused of started."

"Children are vicious, Light. I suppose you haven't had to deal with them much, have you?"

"They are easily frightened by Kira." Definite disapproval there, thick in the air. Kira didn't like to be reminded that it was human _nature _to be cruel, and he was giving him a look that again made L want to grin. He pressed his fingers against his mouth harder to prevent it, then took a deep breath.

"I can't do much here, bound." L raised his hands, shaking the cuffs a bit.

Kira's lips quirked again and the tension in the room dropped back to natural levels. "You expect me to let you free?"

"You took the trouble to come here. I assume you want me to help with the case. Or am I being presumptuous?"

Kira smiled finally, silky-smooth and dangerous as ever. L wondered how he could have ever mistaken that look for anything other than what it was – the smile of a killer. "The cuffs stay on."

It was as much of a compromise as they would ever reach, he realized. He needed this case, needed to feel alive again. He nodded simply. "Let's get to work, then."

"I have a plane waiting." L's eyes widened. Not only were they leaving his cells.. but they were going _to _Germany? He took a breath, feeling a lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt in forever.

---

It was almost like old times when L forgot that it wasn't Kira he was cuffed to, but himself. He had a laptop again, they were ensconced in a hotel suite with a case, and there was always cake and sugared tea and something to watch and _think _about.

Kira's hand was on his arm but he was ignoring it, knees pulled to his chest, arms draped about them loosely, absorbing everything on the screen before him. Jagged pieces of a serial killer's life coming into sharper focus as he read about the orphanage.

Kinderheim 511. A horrible place by all accounts – an orphanage where children were abused and programmed, molded into perfect killers and spies. It was the first place they'd found, when looking into Johan Liebert's past.

He couldn't have been there terribly long. A riot shut it down – or rather killed everyone in it, except for Johan.

It made something twist deep inside of him that he was afraid to look at too closely. Child experimentation, orphanages. The subtle parallels with Wammy's that he didn't bring up with Kira in the room. Near and Matt and Mello had all been eliminated, of course – but there was more to Wammy's, and he didn't want Kira knowing the extent of it, if he didn't already. There was a chance that one of them, someday, would succeed where he had failed. Besides, the comparison wasn't useful in any way, it just nagged at him silently, bringing up the ragged moral issues of his so-called childhood.

"L." Kira called his name, his hand tightening a little on L's arm. L missed before – even when Kira had been cuffed to him, he still knew when to leave L _alone _to think about something. He sighed a little, looking up with irritation.

"Yes?"

"I didn't bring you here so that you could not tell me what you're thinking." Kira's voice was firm and commanding and annoying. L nipped at his own thumb a little viciously.

"How can I tell you when I'm not sure myself, yet?"

Kira ignored him. He hated that, hated that Kira didn't let him work at his own pace. "Do you think the orphanage was the root of it?"

"No." He answered only after some hesitation, turning back to the monitor, intending on blocking Kira out again, wanting to concentrate, to turn the problem over and study it from another angle. They were missing so much information it was positively infuriating.

Kira reached for the chain of the cuffs, jerking them hard and forcing L to turn to him. His eyes hard and hot and L sucked in his breath, forgetting in that moment to wince at the metal biting into his wrists. Kira shouldn't be able to look like that at him. Shouldn't be able to send L's heart into an uneven tattoo and make him focus on keeping his breath even.

He'd been locked up too long, he realized. Too long without people around to desensitize him, and everything just felt too raw and real.

"You're going to talk to me, L. Don't force me to kill Tenma-sensei and close this case without exploring the options." Kira's voice was a low, menacing growl, but it didn't intimidate him. The other's stare was what was making him uncomfortable.

L's eyes dropped to the chain around Kira's hand and he sighed softly. "You know there isn't much to go on here. But presupposing that Johan is our culprit – no, I don't think the orphanage was what created Johan."

Kira relaxed marginally. L marveled at how much sharper his anger issues had gotten in the time he hadn't seen him. "Then what?"

"Something before, I'd imagine."

"Why not after?"

"The riot." L knew his voice was both dark and thoughtful, but he couldn't help it. He remembered too much of too many criminals. And one from Wammy's. Ruthlessly, he shut that line of thought down. Irrelevant. Kira did not need to know any of this.

"You think he had something to do with it."

"I think it is not implausible. Students attacking teachers would fall into the normal scenario. Teachers attacking each other…" He mused, raising his eyes back to Kira's.

"Odd." Kira echoed his thoughts.

L nodded slowly. "Very."

Kira's grip on the handcuffs eased and L let out a soft breath of relief. "Official records have long since vanished." The self-styled god looked irritated at that. "We have very little to go on besides this orphanage."

"The doctor… Tenma." L rubbed his wrists a little, thinking. "He was at the orphanage. He's doing the same thing we are."

There was a moment of startled silence, then a jagged bark of laughter that made L almost wince. "You mean to use him."

"I think it may be our only option."

----

Light watched him working, the half-incomprehensible monologue rushing over him. He'd finally convinced L to verbalize his thoughts, though it was coming out in a steady stream of mumbles that slipped easily from Japanese to German to English and back again. Occasionally he would catch snippets of other languages – French here, something else European there.

He knew that L was multilingual, of course. He had never really witnessed his degree of fluency before, though, not like this. L _thought _in several languages, processed things multilingually, found different layers of meaning in each of them. He was impressed, in spite of himself, though he wouldn't tell the detective that.

He also needed a shower, Light realized distantly. L always did – excepting the time that he and Light had spent chained together and Light had dragged him into the bathroom once a day. He had to be bullied into one by Watari, otherwise. Light suppressed a groan.

He'd forgotten how much _babysitting_ L required. He grimaced behind the detective's back and patiently waited for a pause in the monologue before he grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around in the chair.

"You need a shower."

L blinked up at him owlishly. It didn't have the same effect as it once did – the detective had been getting more sleep, the dark rings around his eyes had shrunk considerably, leaving him with a pale, too-innocent face. "I'm working, Light."

"You stink." Light said firmly.

L looked almost like he was going to pout for a moment, then lifted his cuffed hands, his baggy sleeves falling down his arms. There were thin red strips around his wrist where the metal had been rubbing him raw.

Light nodded, taking his hand, unlocking the cuffs and slipping them back into his pocket. L moved to step around him, but he kept a hand on his shoulder, following him. L looked back, curiously.

"You're coming with me?"

"Obviously."

"You don't need to babysit me." He yanked his shirt up over his head, exposing his slim, pale chest. The years had filled him out a little – Light couldn't count his ribs anymore. He still was breakably thin, and perhaps even paler than he was before. Except for the red stripes around his wrists. Light would have to do something about that, he supposed.

"I know you better than that, L." L messily tossed his shirt into the corner. Light suppressed the urge to pick it up and fold it properly… but he _wasn't _L's nursemaid and he refused to act like it.

"I'm not going to run away. It's not like I'd get far – you still have my name and face."

"I'm more worried about you skipping shampoo." Light retorted as jeans and boxers followed the shirt, creating a small mountain of baggy clothes.

L laughed at that, softly, and shook his head a little, conceding the point. He hissed as he stepped into the hot water and tugged the clear glass shut between them. Light wondered if it was the water on raw skin, or if he just hated showering that much. He couldn't remember if L always acted that way in the shower or not – truthfully he tried not to pay attention.

Light crossed his arms, watching him. L was fast in the shower, like usual. He scrubbed at his hair, his body efficiently and without any real grace.

Still, there was something attractive in that spareness. Nothing with L was wasted, everything he was poured into his work.

Light hated himself still, occasionally, for not killing him. He knew it would have been kinder. Still… he had always known L would be _useful_, if he could break him down.

The detective stepped out of the shower, sopping wet and dripping all over the floor. Light groaned and threw a towel at him, into his face. "Dry off first, you slob."

L did, feet to hair, leaving it frizzy and sticking out in all different directions He reached for his dirty clothes. Light grimaced again, irritated at himself for getting distracted. "Wait."

He stepped out, only for a moment, grabbing some of his own clothes. Boxers, loose jeans (though tighter than L usually wore), white button-up shirt. Shoving them into L's arms. "Clean clothes."

L blinked a little, then pulled them on. Starting to do the buttons up wrong, then correcting himself while Light kept a rein on his impatience. Finally holding his hands back up in a silent query.

The handcuffs. Light slid them out of his pocket, closing them around each wrist with a metallic snap that echoed in the bathroom.

"Back to work?" L's voice was quiet and his eyes were – as always – completely unreadable.

"Your hair."

"It'll dry, Light." L shrugged a little, unconcerned.

"It's a mess." He held up a brush, expecting L to take it from him.

L ignored the brush entirely. "I don't care. I'm not here to impress anyone, and we have more interesting things to argue about."

And that was the truth, so Light let it go, for now, even though his fingers ached to grab L and hold him down and drag the brush through his hair to rip the knots out of it. He let the brush slip through his hands to hit the counter with a clatter.

"So we do."

----

They settled into a routine. Hotel to hotel, city to city, country to country. Following a trail of deaths and clues that didn't quite go together. In doing so, they fell back into banter, into challenging each other mentally. Light had taken the cuffs off after a week, replacing them instead with a tracker that he slipped around L's skinny ankle and tightened down mercilessly. It still was a kindness, as the detective's wrists had started to bleed.

Months slipped by in that slow pace that was so familiar and yet so different than the Kira case. L went _silent _sometimes, and Light had to threaten to send him away before he'd come back.

Orphans and orphanages. They hinted at L's past in the way that he avoided the topic or spoke of it in carefully neutral tones. Light tried to draw more out of him but every time he did, L brushed his queries off in a way that left him unable to follow them up. It was maddening.

Light always took the bedroom of their suites, an action that was as much practicality as it was a subtle power play. L slept on the couch, when he slept at all. The dark rings hadn't fully returned but they were inexorably widening.

He wondered how many of L's cases had been like this, this quiet and slow cat-and-mouse game. It was impossible for there have been many, given the volume of cases he had solved. Still, he was excellent as ever at the waiting game. Perhaps he usually worked on multiple cases at once.

"Light…" L looked up suddenly, breaking into Light's reverie. "They caught him in Prague."

"Johan?" He couldn't help the stab of disbelief and almost… disappointment.

"Kenzou Tenma."


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings for this chapter: Sexual situations!

Thanks to those of you who read, and double-thanks to those who reviewed! :)

I'm trying not to drag this on too long – but of course because I DIDN'T want to get distracted from Fuseki and Black and Gold, this has spiraled out of control to nearly 30 pages already. Man. I am crazy.

As I've mentioned in a few different places, I'm actively seeking RP partners for any of the series that I write for, plus other possibilites. If anyone's remotely interested, pm me or aim me at katalyst019! 3

----

Tenma Kenzou was not, objectively, beautiful. Light circled the doctor, who sat in a chair in the middle of the room, shoulders hunched in a manner not unlike L's, protectively. He hadn't shaved in days, his hair was ragged and unwashed, his clothes threadbare. If he hadn't known who this man was, he might have pegged him for homeless. As it was, he just looked like some sort of tired old soldier, long in the tooth and hardened by war.

He spoke in a low monotone as he recited his experiences. His story started in a hospital, saving the life of a child. A noble act, the right thing to do. It seemed to have brought him nothing but trouble, however. Light turned the situation over in his mind.

So many people had already died. Tenma remembered their names, the ones he had been in contact with. He listed them and the circumstances of their deaths to the best of his knowledge in a flat, tired voice. He had told this story before to the Czech police, of course – and it sounded rehearsed but not disingenuous, as if he'd told it to many others too.

Adolf Junkers. The Fortners. Middle-aged couples making a trail of bodies all over Germany.

And worse. Stories of atrocity, of brainwashing, of torture, of people who were toyed with before they were killed. Kinderheim 511. The Turkish town that was nearly burned. The library that _was _burned. Prague.

Events twisted around, seemingly unrelated until they converged in points of brilliance. Tenma made the connections as simple as possible.

Neither of them interrupted him. It was an unspoken agreement that they should hear the doctor's story before they started asking questions. And much of the story, they had known. But Tenma filled in their knowledge, polished it and added a surprisingly complex psychological evaluation of Johan. It looked less and less like a half-mad story, and more like a completely mad – completely terrifying reality.

Finally Tenma finished and fell silent. Light spoke up before L could pepper him with questions, deciding that he deserved a break… well from L at any rate. Light wanted to indulge his own curiosity, first. "L. Reassure the Czech police. Tenma-sensei… you look like you could use a shower and some food."

L gaped at him – an expression that he took vicious delight in – and Tenma's eyes held weary surprise as Light half-hauled him out of the chair and steered him into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them and turning him in the direction of the bathroom.

Later, when the doctor was showered and shaved and dressed in a clean pair of Light's clothes, he ordered room service for them.

Tenma's table manners were impeccable, even though he was clearly starving, eating everything without hesitation. Light smiled, pouring him a glass of the complimentary bottle of wine that was sent up too.

The doctor was much more attractive after he cleaned himself up some, he was pleased to find. He had been hoping. The shaggy hair just accentuated his eyes, the fine bones of his face, his mouth that was sensuous without being girly.

"What do you think of Kira?" Light asked the doctor casually over the wine that they shared, once they were into the second bottle. It was an experiment – he rarely asked people a question like this. Before it would have cast suspicion on him and now – well no one told him the truth. But Tenma personified his ideas, his world. He had known it from the time he started talking. And… Light felt that he would be honest.

Would he offer him a Note? Light toyed with the idea. Tenma knew Johan's face, could possibly end this now and keep the deaths at bay. But there was sacrifice involved in using the Note, and only a true devotee would use it. Only a true devotee _deserved _it.

"I am not sure." Tenma spoke hesitantly, making Light want to frown just a little. "I have not thought about.. Kira.. much, until lately."

The stumble on his name – clearly Tenma had trouble separating Kira the idea from Light the person, sitting with him. He wondered if that meant that Tenma disapproved. "Please do not worry that I will take offense."

The doctor sipped his wine, reflectively. "I… sometimes wonder if Kira's methods are too harsh, to deal out judgment like that without due process."

"Aren't you doing the same?" He struggled to keep any hint of sharpness out of his voice, but wasn't sure he was entirely successful, judging from the way the doctor tensed a little.

"..Yes." Tenma took a deep breath, setting his wineglass down. It seemed to surprise him, that Light had read his intentions – but in a way they were obvious. He had trained to kill. A silence played over them, as Tenma was obviously not done speaking yet. Finally he raised his eyes to Light's, somber. "But I believe I will deserve Kira's justice once I have succeeded."

Light sucked in a breath. Tenma expected to die, it was stunningly clear. And he was beautiful with it – full of conviction and morality and he couldn't help leaning over and pressing his mouth to the doctor's, ignoring the startled murmur of protest. Pulling him in inexorably.

Tenma slowly melted into his arms – perhaps he was lonely, or perhaps he just realized that refusal was unthinkable. Light _was _the god of the new world after all, and Tenma lived on his sufferance.

----

L stood in the doorway of Kira's room, naturally-wide eyes wider at the sight of Kenzou Tenma naked and completely asleep in Kira's bed, and Kira sitting up next to him, one hand in the doctor's overlong, messy hair, the other hand holding a book.

Kira heard him come in of course, but ignored him for several moments, letting him soak in the scene before him. Finally he lifted his eyes to L's and held. L sucked in a breath, visibly.

"Yes?"

L's eyebrows had taken permanent residence in his hairline. "Is it quite wise to sleep with a suspect?"

"He isn't a suspect."

"He is until we have evidence of Johan's involvement." L continued stubbornly.

Light gave him a look, and L looked just a bit stricken. How he forgot that Kira needed no such thing was always a mystery. The detective took a breath before shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?"

"Shouldn't it?"

Light laughed very quietly, a thought occurring to him. He didn't know what made L more uncomfortable – the fact that Light only wanted a name and a face to enact his justice, or that he had clearly just had sex. "L, how long has it been since you've gotten laid?"

Black eyes sharpened, narrowed. This was a game they hadn't played yet, excepting a few barbs that never went anywhere, and it was a sweet rush that came from not having won yet. L didn't answer

"Clearly at least five years." Light pressed with a small smirk, setting the book aside and shifting in the bed, laying a possessive hand on Tenma's hip. Pressing the advantage. L's eyes were opaque and he couldn't tell what he read there – disgust or desire.

"Longer than that, I'd wager. Before the Kira case?"

"The details of my personal life are not relevant to the case."

"You could join us, you know." He kept the offer light, on the razor edge between genuine and mocking, interested in how he would interpret it. It made the detective's spine straighten in that way he only did when he was feeling intimidated and angry. Light smothered a smile in Tenma's hair, inhaling the scent of his own shampoo.

"I have work to do." L turned his back on him sharply and left the room, shutting the door quietly but firmly.

Light laughed softly and Tenma stirred under him, prompting Light to forget torturing the detective and draw the other man into a lazy kiss. Light had found him to be a _very _good lover – too bad L didn't have his surveillance cameras anymore. He might have had some voyeuristic pleasure, if nothing else.

----

Tenma had been there for a week. It was a week that was becoming increasingly frustrating for him. L could see it in the way that he paced.

Kira had taken an interest in him that wasn't healthy. He'd ordered him to stay with them, had gotten him new clothes that L judged to be expensive. It was quite disgusting. He was treating the doctor like a pet and not seeing how miserable it made him.

Tenma was not suited to be on a leash like this. He was too intelligent and he had a purpose, a mission. L understood that keenly, and more. Kira was, subtly, trying to groom him as another Kira.

L regarded him over the screen of the laptop for several minutes. Kira was out, a sign that he had started to feel a modicum of trust for the detective – or that he simply counted on the tracker around his ankle to keep him tethered.

"Dr. Tenma." The doctor stopped in his pacing, looking up, startled. They hadn't exchanged more than five sentences or so, other than the questions that had asked that directly pertained to the case. "Do you want to be here?"

The doctor's eyes narrowed just a touch, suspiciously. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't caught on to the intricacies of L and Kira's relationship – Kira had introduced him as Ryuzaki again, and although the doctor was highly intelligent, he would have no reason to suspect L as being anything other than an assistant.

"Please do not think that I intend to rat you out to Light." He drummed his fingers, then reached to shut the laptop, fixing him with a stare.

"What is your intention, then?" The doctor sounded suspicious, but interested, facing him directly.

"To let you go, if that's what you want."

Tenma's eyes widened a little. "Why?"

"I have little loyalty to Kira. I care about the case, and this case will not be solved if we just sit here." He didn't mention his other suspicions – perhaps he should have, but he trusted Tenma to stay gone until his mission was fulfilled.

Tenma nodded slowly. It was the only story he would be able to trust, after all. "How? There's surveillance and guards."

L opened the laptop again, bringing up the surveillance feeds. "I can shut them off. You'll have five minutes to get out of the building. If you go to the roof, there's a route." He waved him over and Tenma came, watching as L detailed it, expertly switching through security feeds.

"I can do that."

"Then go."

Tenma placed one hand on L's shoulder in what felt like thanks. L ignored it, executing the commands that would shut down the surveillance.

The door closed quietly a moment later and L sighed, rubbing the back of his own neck. Suddenly exhausted.

Kira would not like this one bit. L stood and went to lie down on the couch heavily. He wouldn't be surprised if he was sent back for this. Kira would perceive it as a betrayal, there was no way he would not. It felt good though, an act of defiance that was significant instead of small. A reminder that no matter what kind of impossible situation he was in, he could still fight.

He closed his eyes, thinking it would be impossible to sleep, until he was roughly awakened by Kira's hand on his arm, shaking him hard enough that his teeth rattled a bit.

"Where is he?"

L pushed himself up, pushed Kira's hand off of him. "I let him go."

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Kira was kneeling on the couch, leaning into him a little, menacingly. Anger issues.

He had never been particularly good at calming Kira's anger – the fact that L existed irritated him, after all. Still he tried to counter it with calm logic. "Keeping him here would ensure that we do _not _solve this case."

Kira's hand shot out, catching L's chin in a grip that was just shy of painful. "Are you sure you're not just jealous?" Halfway between mocking and anger, it threatened to break L's formidable control. He wasn't jealous.

L snorted a little, forcing a slightly contemptuous look onto his face. "Jealous of being Kira's plaything?"

"True." A haughty smile, Light's hand softening on his face in a way that turned L's stomach. "You've been that for years now."

L looked at him flatly. "Do these games help anything?"

Kira dipped his head in more, until inches separated them. "Why are you in such a hurry to get back to your little cell?"

"I'm in a hurry to keep more people from dying."

"As well you should be." Kira withdrew, seemingly placated. "Go take a shower, L."

As good as the defiance felt, he didn't want to press his luck too far. So he got up wordlessly, going to take a quick shower. Thankfully Kira didn't seem to feel the need to follow him in anymore, and he finished and pulled his clothes on over his damp skin, towel-dried his damp hair, and shuffled back out in less than ten minutes.

He slipped into his normal chair, drawing his knees to his chest and reading through his notes from Tenma once more. Letting himself slip into hyperfocus again, idly munching on sugar candy, until he felt something rip through his hair, stinging and pulling his head up.

He growled and looked up at Kira behind him, smothering a curse in English. "What are you doing?"

"Brushing your hair." Kira's eyes were mocking. "If it gets much more tangled, I'll have to shave it off."

L made a face, pulling away, only to be hauled back in the chair by his shoulder. "I'm working."

"You would still be sleeping if I hadn't come home. Sit still."

L suppressed a string of curses and tried to squirm away as Kira dragged the brush through his hair, working out all the knots. That _hurt _damnit, and was completely unnecessary. Kira was getting revenge on him – in a way that was almost comically childish.

L grimaced, swatting at Kira's hands once the other had finished working out most of them, his whole head hurting. "Done yet?"

Kira tossed the brush down next to the laptop and slid his hands into L's hair, dragging his fingers through it, making L frown more. It felt good though, easing the stinging of his scalp.

"Since you've scared Kenzou away, perhaps you'll have to take his place." His fingers tightened, tugging his head back again to look into his eyes. "Though I don't intend to be as pleasant to you."

"Another game, Light?" He tried to strike the right mix of boredom and disinterest, but based on Kira's smile, it didn't seem that it worked.

"Of course."

"Five years have completely debauched you, I see." He allowed the disgust he felt into his voice.

"Quite." The infuriating amusement still didn't slip.

"Are you ordering me into your bed?" Flatly. The game they had been playing had L obeying Kira's _orders_, but outside of that, Kira had allowed him volition.

"I still have the handcuffs."

"And control issues." L disentangled himself. "Are you ordering me?"

There was silence for a long moment and L could practically hear Kira's brain working, trying to figure out which was to the best advantage. He was banking on Kira wanting to continue to play this game.

"Yes." It was like a bucket of icewater over his head, L inhaling sharply, involuntarily betraying his surprise and making Kira smirk slowly. "So now what will you do, L?"


	3. Chapter 3

New chapter, yay~ It might start going a little slower to write as we're going to be getting more and more into the philosophical/psychological issues that Monster dealt with as time goes on.

Also – still seeking rp partners. Anyone interested? PM me!

----

"Are you ordering me into your bed?" L spoke flatly. The game they had been playing had L obeying Kira's _orders_, but outside of that, Kira had allowed him volition.

"I still have the handcuffs."

"And control issues." L tried for a moment to disentangle himself, but Kira kept ahold of his hair, kept his head back. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, staring up at him. "Are you ordering me?"

There was silence for a long moment and L could practically hear Kira's brain working, trying to figure out which was to the best advantage. He was banking on Kira wanting to continue to play this game, the one that never went anywhere.

"Yes." It was like a bucket of icewater over his head, L inhaling sharply, involuntarily betraying his surprise and making Kira smirk slowly. "So now what will you do, L?"

"Refuse of course." He kept his voice steady and logically emotionless, not wanting to give Light a fingerhold of emotion to rip at.

"Why?" Kira sounded boredly amused, his hands sliding out of L's hair to his shoulders.

"Isn't it obvious?" Calm apathy was the only thing he could use as a defense, letting his chin fall to look back at the computer, as if his notes interested him still, even at this moment.

"Indulge me." Kira's hands were heavy and warm on his shoulders and he resented their presence as much as he welcomed them.

"You order it because you believe it will throw me off."

"Perhaps I find you attractive." The hands on his shoulders were moving, rubbing out knots from muscles that had long been painful. L pressed his lips together to keep from sighing in physical pleasure.

"Again, trying to distract me. We both know better than that. You're attracted to power games and nothing more."

Kira was silent behind him. He thought he caught the image of Kira in the screen of the laptop. He wondered if it was his imagination that the other nodded slowly, conceding the point.

Either way, the silence demanded more from him. "You also think sex will break me." L followed up. Kira seemed to think that having sex would turn L into some kind of besotted teenager.

"Your refusal seems to agree with that supposition." And damn Kira for sounding so amused, still.

L's eyes narrowed, and he couldn't help but betray his anger. "You're trying to bait me into accepting. I know you, Kira. Perhaps I'm just tired of the game."

"And I know you." His voice was dark and low and too damned attractive. "You're never tired of it."

Kira's hands tilted his head back again, hard and his mouth descended on his, and it was an awkward angle, L's head jerked back and Kira's hand on his throat and in his hair, but it was still... good. Better than it had any right to be.

He was right, L mused distantly… Kira was right that it had been too, too long, and once pressed this far, he wouldn't _want _to refuse. But that didn't mean he would play this the way that Kira wanted.

When Kira finally released him, breathless and dizzy, L stood, slowly turning to face him dragging his own shirt up over his head and dropping it on the chair.

"Let's play it, then."

-----

Five years had been good to Kira. It was an observation that couldn't be avoided as L listened to the other man's breath slow next to him. He had filled out, was no longer as scrawny as he was, and he had clearly gained quite a bit of experience in the intervening years. He'd turned into a good lover, control issues and all.

L rested on his own back, one knee drawn up still, not bothering pulling the sheets up over himself. Kira laid next to him, stretched out like a lazy cat, clearly half-asleep and sated, though expectant. He was waiting for L to fall asleep, he supposed. The temptation was there, sharp and seductive. After all, the sex had been a tightly controlled war, violent but wholly satisfying.

L waited until he felt he had his bearings and then sat up and slid out of the bed, causing Kira's eyes to open slowly, fixing on him. "Where are you going?" Kira drawled, lazily, watching him.

"Back to work, now that you've gotten that out of your system." L reached down to scoop his pants up.

Kira pressed himself up on an elbow, looking quite shocked, and L kept his face carefully neutral as he slipped into the shower, cleaning up quickly.

When he walked out again, loose jeans hanging low on his hips, his shirt still in the front room, he could feel Kira's eyes on him, hot and measuring.

He paid them no mind, ambling through the door and back into the chair, ignoring the fact that he was sore, the bruises that were coming up on his skin already. He waited, listening, for Light to come out after him. He'd pushed him hard, and there was a good chance that Light would explode.

No footsteps came after him, though, and the door never swung open. He had had the battle, though not yet the war. He sank himself into the case, feeling better than he had in months.

Round one: L.

----

Light watched L leave the room, his eyes narrowed, his body tense. His skin felt too tight, like it could barely contain him. He wanted to tear over there and _rip _L's throat out for daring to walk away like that, as if they'd had nothing more than unsugared tea.

L was supposed to have shown something, to at least _crack_. Light wasn't so vain to actually think that he'd have cried or begged or anything, but that cool exit that turned his victory into a loss… unacceptable.

He wanted to follow him out there, to see him curled-up and not reading for once, but instead thinking about what had happened. And barring that, he wanted to shove him down over notes and laptops and prove to him, over and over, that he had lost.

He wanted to write L's name, have him die serving him, _begging _him. Anything to make the detective lose his fucking cool, anything to make him acknowledge that Light had _won_.

No. He knew that sort of victory was petty at best and he wanted it to be decisive. He was capable of a protracted battle. He would break him, using whatever tactic he needed.

Besides, L was surprisingly good in bed, for a shut-in. Not a substitute for Tenma's utter consideration, of course, but he was a challenge that the doctor didn't provide.

Light, somewhat mollified stretched out, letting the tension drain from his body. Perhaps he'd gotten too used to victory lately. Going out to confront L would only give the detective _more _of a victory, and he didn't intend to let that happen.

----

L was the single most annoying person on the planet. He had always known that of course, but Light was running out of any patience he might have had.

He watched L's slouched form, half-buried in a pile of kid's books. Light supposed they were relevant to the case – they seemed to be part of Johan's past, based on what Tenma had told them in a regrettably brief phonecall. Still, it seemed silly.

Johan had passed out reading one of them. Light was positive it was due to the basic shock of remembering – it was doubtful the books themselves had any sort of power. There was no other plausible explanation – after all, they were just children's books. Light himself had looked through a few of them. They didn't seem to be notably different than any _other _child's book, and Light wondered if L wasn't just using the excuse to goof off.

Granted, there was something unsettling about them, but Light didn't really like children's books to begin with, even as a child.

He was irritated that Tenma hadn't brought this information to them in person. He found himself missing the doctor's uncomplicated kindness, his purity. He was thoughtful without being hyper-focused, driven without being creepy, smart without it defining him. Self-depreciating to a fault, as opposed to L's hyperactive ego.

He was above all, soothing. Light thought his feeling for the doctor might have become an obsession, if he had time for these things anymore. As it was, Tenma had been a very, very pleasant diversion – and to Light's mind, would be again in the future.

Instead of that future, though, He was now stuck in a shithole hotel (all right, not a shithole but a 5-star suite that still managed not to suit him, somehow), watching the news and getting reports from people only vaguely in the case and watching L _read children's books._

It was babysitting and nothing more. He snarled under his breath, suddenly furious again. L had no right to let Tenma go, just as he had no right to hide things from Light. He was only here because of Light's indulgence and he could easily go back.

He circled the older detective, studying him. The way his shoulders hunched almost defensively, the way his hair fell into his eyes (brushed now, something that Light did to irritate him constantly), the fingers already chewed ragged, worse than he could recall ever having seen them, pressed to his mouth.

---

L could feel Kira prowling around him, could feel the eyes bearing down on him, but paid them no mind.

Cat and mouse defined him, defined them.

Who played what role was fuzzy at best sometimes. Kira still ostensibly played the role of the predator, but L challenged him in that, seducing as often as he was seduced, and every time walking away afterwards as if he were bored by the whole process – no matter what it cost him personally in pride or pain.

It was worth it, because it was frustrating the hell out of Kira. That much was obvious in how he kept changing tactics… hard and rough, slow and mockingly caring, disinterested… the god of the new world was a rather schizophrenic lover.

L kept his amusement and his bitter satisfaction to himself, because to display it would be to give the whole game away.

Besides there were more games to play – stalking Tenma, stalking Johan. Every time they seemed to get to the _bottom _of Johan, there was another layer to be peeled back. L felt equal measures of hatred and fascination for the case… for Johan himself.

Some days, he got so absorbed that Light had to physically shake him out of a trance of thought. Today felt like it might become another one of those days… L sat with a picture book open on his lap, staring at each page for so long that he was sure it seemed impossible that he was actually reading it.

But he was. Studying each page, each nuance of meaning in Czech, in German. Translating back and forth to try and suck every drop of information he could out of the words on the page. And when that was making him dizzy and proving silly at best (did any child think this deeply about a story), he studied every line in each drawing – the sharpness of monster teeth, the curious deadness to their eyes. Johan had read these books as a child. As implausible as it might be, they had a hand in his development. The birth of a sociopath. Tenma had seemed convinced that they were pivotal.

He pressed his finger into his mouth, idly chewing a nail. Active, directed analysis was getting him nowhere, so he let his mind wander, pulling the pieces together as it would. It began to draw rapid parallels between his own education and what he had learned about Johan's. Parallels that made him feel somewhat sick, but he allowed them. Johan's upbringing could be the same, could be designed. The sociopath could have been _crafted_.

There was always a meaning. Always a purpose. What did the story mean? What was it supposed to portray?

Dozens of meanings flitted through his head, the most logical being that one did not need a name. Ironic message there, thought of years before Kira's conception. He traced letters, muttering the lines in Czech.

_We just have to accept that we are monsters without a name._

"L, you can't just sit and stare all day." Kira's voice cut into his train of thought sharply, making L blink slowly, raising his eyes to Kira's.

"I'm thinking." He replied peevishly, disliking when anyone threw his mental monologues off.

"We've already had this conversation." Kira's eyes were hard and piercing.

L sighed. Kira needed to get over his need to know every little thing that he was thinking – If he really thought L would or even _could _tell him everything, he had gotten lazy and foolish. Besides that, such endless vocal analysis would slow them both down. "I wish I could meet him."

"Why?" L paused and looked closer at Kira. He was learning to read the subtle signs that he might not have seen before – even after the months of being handcuffed, there was more to be learned. Kira was more open than L had been, because he was sure of himself.

He read jealousy in that. He supposed it was logical – L had never often met suspects and Kira was aware of that. He probably thought it was an honor that had been reserved for him.

"We don't have any information about his personality, and he is not easy to profile. I have no idea how intelligent he is, for instance."

"He's clearly smart."

"But is he as smart as us?" L countered smoothly.

"Of course not." Kira scoffed as if the possibility was ridiculous. Perhaps it was – perhaps it wasn't. L himself didn't know. He regarded it as unlikely, but still conducted his own reasoning with the possibility in mind.

"How do you know?" Doggedly, pressing it. He knew Kira would see it his way, once he really thought. Although that assumption itself perhaps presupposed that Kira himself was operating on the same level he once did, and the god complex hadn't gotten in his way _too _much.

Kira was silent. L nodded a little. "We don't. It's pure conjecture, based on the fact that we have no academic work to compare. Even the teachers reports that we have managed to get are vague at best. We know he is intelligent… we also know he wanted to remain hidden. Therefore it is just as illogical to _assume _he is as smart as us, just as it is illogical to assume he isn't."

"Even assuming we could _find _Johan – what makes you think I would allow a meeting?"

"Why wouldn't you?" L widened his eyes a little, in absolutely innocent surprise, which caused Kira to narrow his.

He suspected a trap of some sort – of course he did. L cursed mentally, realizing that he'd overplayed his hand. He'd be lucky if Kira let him even see another _picture _of Johan at this rate.

"Why should I hand you over to a psychopath? Even supposing that we manage to find and get close to him, which is highly unlikely – what if he kills you?" The fake concern was silky and choking.

L chewed his finger in silence, letting amusement creep into his stare. Pulling his finger out of his mouth and wrapping his arms around his legs. "I imagine it would simply solve a problem for you if he did."

Kira's expression tightened, shut even more. He snorted a little. "Perhaps you're right."

And that was that. Whatever it was. L chose to read it as implicit permission – a victory, he supposed, though it left a slightly sour taste in his mouth that he tried to purge with a lollipop.

He did want to meet Johan. It was immaterial though, whether the killer was as smart as them. He just wanted to _meet _him. He wasn't sure why. He conjectured that it could be to purge some of the demons of his own childhood. It would be like looking through a mirror, he imagined. Perfect detective, perfect killer. Both _created _by the interference of others.

He wondered how Johan would compare to Kira – someone so utterly like and unlike himself. Or would he be more like Beyond; his other mirror, the cracked one. Or would Johan be more than either of them, who chose their paths… would he be more like L than he could even anticipate? He shook his head a little, clearing himself of the thoughts.

Johan wasn't his double. He reminded himself of this firmly, fixed it into his head. He couldn't afford to get distracted with his own unproductive groping at his past. Johan could give him valuable insight… into the case. The case. That was the most important thing.

Kira's lips and teeth descended on his shoulder and for a moment he was as apathetic as he always claimed to be. _So today it will be sex as punishment_.

It seemed like every day he lost his mind a little more.

What was the _point_ of it all?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter four~ In which Light isn't the only one to fuck around.

Thank you to everyone who's read and double thanks to those of you who've reviewed! I'm writing this mostly for me… but it's really _really _nice to hear you all are enjoying it too!

----

L had slipped out of the hotel room while Kira was there – albeit in his room, showering. He left a note, of course. He doubted that Kira would understand, but a note came the closest he could to actual permission.

It wasn't as if Light couldn't follow him if he wanted. He could bring all of the bloody country's police down on L's head if he wanted. He could also just kill him.

Each thought lent its own special thrill to his leaving. When did he begin to find death preferable to boredom?

Johan had been rumored to be sighted. L had a closer watch on him than Kira realized – he was better at stalking his prey through multiple means. All he needed was a computer and he could patch into security feeds, chatter from all over. He also knew _how _to recognize recruitment patterns, which was ultimately what lead him here.

This bar was likely. Johan had been meeting a serial rapist here, one who had posted several messages on a particularly unsavory mailing list about his new friend.

L wasn't disappointed. Perhaps an hour after he arrived and ensconced himself in a quiet, defensible corner, someone unmistakable walked in.

Although he clearly matched the description that Dr. Tenma had given them, it was Johan's mere _presence _that clued L in. Almost like the grime of the bar, of the world could never stick to him. He was incandescent, light.

L swallowed, sipping his club soda before taking a breath and approaching him. "Johan."

Ice blue eyes turned to him, smiling softly as they took him in. L slouched against the bar, thumbs tucked into his pockets.

"Do I know you?" The boy (for he was a boy, for all his cool-edged danger) asked smoothly.

L chose to speak in French, a last-minute decision, but he figured it would be one of the languages they had in common that was less likely to be understood here.

"Perhaps. I'm known as L."

There was a fractional widening of eyes, a small curve to girlish lips. "The detective?" He answered back in perfectly smooth Parisian French that made L want to close his eyes in appreciation. He did love language.

Instead, he kept his eyes and his tone perfectly flat. "Yes."

"The papers said you were incarcerated for crimes against Kira."

"I haven't been in jail." The answer was as much a half-hearted test as anything else, and he wasn't disappointed when Johan's lips quirked, seeming to get the dodge.

"Are you here to solve a case, L?"

"I'm here to meet you."

Johan's expression didn't change. He exhibited frightening control that rivaled L and Kira's control – or perhaps he just didn't care. Maybe his control was born from a deep apathy. L and Kira cared.

Johan nodded once, slowly and caught the bartender's eyes, ordering two drinks and paying for them. L accepted his, though it felt awkward in his hand. He didn't drink often and he got the feeling that Johan did not either, that the other was simply going through the motions.

"Tell me about yourself." Johan's voice was soft but somehow clear against the murmur of the bar and L caught his breath, feeling something _dangerous_. It wasn't the words or even how the other said them. It was his presence. Johan was compelling in a way that L had never really experienced before and suddenly so much made _sense._

It would be easy to sink all his secrets into Johan, like throwing them into a dark well. The other man seemed not to crave or dread them – in fact he seemed to understand them instinctively. L wondered if that was just his research talking… the similarities he had noted before twisting his own perceptions.

Johan gave neither too much nor too little, hypnotically _listening _in a way that made you want to tell him everything, everything. And L trembled with that need, letting himself feel it for a long moment. Sipped the drink deeply, realizing that it was strong alcohol.

"What do you want to know?" He managed to ask after he realized he had been silent far too long.

"Whatever you would like to tell me."

"And if I don't wish to tell you anything?" He realized that he countered that question almost _too _quickly.

"Then you won't get what you came here for, will you, detective?"

"What did I come here for?" L tapped his fingers on the bar, slowly, looking up at Johan. "Or perhaps more accurately – what do you believe I came here for?"

Johan just smiled in his enigmatic way. L didn't know how to read it. It was… intriguing. He raised the glass to his lips, tilting it back again. The burn was more familiar, more comforting this time through.

"I could be here to arrest you. After all, I am L." He shrugged a little, swirling the drink in his hand, concentrating on the clinking of the ice.

"Ah… but are you L the person, or L the detective?"

The question startled him and he could see his own knuckles turning white as he gripped the glass a shade too hard. Perceptive. Oh-so perceptive. "The detective."

"Wasn't there a time before that?" Johan asked softly.

"Not really." L allowed the silence between them to grow pregnant with thought… with both of their respective inner dialogues. Or perhaps only his. Perhaps the other was waiting for him to continue.

Finally Johan spoke. "And who are you now, in Kira's world?"

L paused in the middle of taking another, much smaller sip of the drink, looking over at Johan thoughtfully.

"I am L."

"That doesn't answer my question." Johan pointed out with a kind of calm, comforting logic that simultaneously calmed and raised L's defenses.

"Does it matter?"

"Perhaps I should ask instead… what gives your life meaning now, L?"

Suddenly it struck L that it was bloody ironic that he had chosen French for this conversation, he realized. Irritating in fact. L half-wanted to switch to Czech or German or bloody _Japanese_. Anything but discuss what was gearing up to be philosophy with a psychopath in French.

"I am still a detective." He couldn't keep the tight defensiveness out of his voice.

"But it seems you only are when Kira allows you to be… or have I missed some of your cases in the last few years?"

L stayed silent. Suddenly he realized Johan had taken the (somehow empty) drink from his fingers and gently started guiding him out of the door. He caught his breath. It occurred to him to fight. He doubted Johan could take him by force, L was still quite confident in his own abilities.

Still he didn't fight, even though some part of him expected to die. Perhaps Johan just wanted to continue the conversation where he wouldn't get company in the form of a rapist. He ignored the part of him that thrummed in anxious anticipation.

They walked for some time, between buildings and down alleys. L was relieved for the silence, even as they ascended stairs. He wondered if this was what happened with Detective Braun. Was he walking towards his own murder?

The scene was similar. A rooftop with an unparalleled view of the city. Johan left him almost in the middle of it, and seemed to have no problem with climbing up onto the shallow retaining wall. He walked along the edge as if it was nothing more than a streetcurb. It had the feeling of something the other did regularly, to impress. It was less impressive to L.

Johan's pale eyes were on him in the dark. He could feel the gaze – somehow both impassive and intent. "Come up here. You can see better."

L scrambled up to join him against the better judgment of the sane half of his brain, taking a deep breath of the cold night air. He stood next to Johan whose hand slid up to his shoulder as they looked down at the glimmer of the city in the night.

"Aren't you scared?" Johan asked, conversationally.

L shook his head slowly. "Should I be?"

"I could easily push you right now."

"Kira could easily have killed me any time in the last five years."

Johan laughed, an almost soundless breath. He stepped down and around, sliding his arms around L's waist. The wall was only a few inches up, so Johan's chin nestled well onto his shoulder. It gave both the illusion of safety and the reality of more control in Johan's hands, but L made no move to avoid it. "You hate that, don't you?"

L closed his eyes, letting himself relax as much as he ever would. After all, if Johan wanted him dead, he would talk him into it, talk him into losing hope. He would have him _jump_, himself. Quite sure suddenly that that was what happened with Braun.

"Tell me about it." Johan's voice was, as always, damnably persuasive and L found himself letting out a breath.

This was his tactic. L felt certain that this was how he controlled people, situations. But all the same, he wanted to understand Johan. Perhaps that meant letting himself go, just a little. "I sometimes wonder what the point of it is."

"The point of what?"

"The games Kira and I play." He leaned back into Johan, who was a solid, reassuring anchor despite it all.

"What games do you play?"

L turned his head, looking into what he could see of Johan's eyes in the moonlight. He knew that they were blue and cold, but he couldn't help but feel that illusion of warmth. That was enough to make L lean forward and kiss him – Johan enough like Kira, like _Light_.

It seemed that Johan was startled by that kiss, because he froze before returning it slowly. He was also awkward, like L imagined Light must have been the first few times he kissed someone. It occurred to L that Johan probably hadn't done this often.

It didn't matter. It was what he needed, what he wanted. _This _was his secret, even if Johan didn't understand it.

Eventually he drew away from it, opened his eyes to look into Johan's. Even in the darkness, L could see they were guarded, even more wary than they had been before. Perhaps L had pushed him off guard. It would be a nice side-effect.

Johan's next words made him shiver though. "Are you in love with him?"

"I do not love Kira." L's voice was ice-cold even to himself. Too cold to be believable.

"Ah.. but Kira, like L, is a title. Do you love the man?"

It was infuriating the way that Johan seemed to be able to cut to the heart of the matter with so little to guide him. L fixed his eyes on a point far in the distance and didn't answer. He didn't know if he could.

"Then why not join him?"

"What he's doing is wrong."

"Wrong?" Johan's voice sounded amused. "The whole world believes he's right, now."

"I don't."

"So are you going to sit in moral judgment for the world?" Something about Johan's phrasing made L catch his breath, made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

"What is right and wrong, anyway?" The smooth, childlike voice continued on, unheeding of L's clenching heart. "Isn't it simply decided by the people as a whole?"

L shook his head sharply.

"Does right and wrong exist beyond humans?" Johan's lips were suddenly on the back of his neck, his teeth just lightly scraping his skin. "Are they inherent in dust?"

"No." L closed his eyes. He knew where the line of reasoning was going.

"If they have no inherent meaning, then what is the meaning if you were to fall? Is it right? Wrong?" Johan's voice was smooth in his ear and his arms warm around L's stomach and he took a breath, looking down at the world.

Literal falling. Symbolic falling. It didn't matter what Johan meant. "Who says I haven't?" He turned in Johan's arms, trusting his balance and the fact that the other's game wasn't over yet, wrapping arms around his shoulders.


	5. Chapter 5

New semester, ahoy! Life's been insane with school and real life issues and all the standard excuses. You all aren't interested in that, you're interested in the story. I get it. 3

THANK YOU so much for those of you who have read and reviewed! You all make me feel warm and fuzzy. This fic was never meant to be the monster that it's become, but it has a special place in my heart – and I'm glad to see in some of yours, as well! 3

----

It was hours later when L finally stumbled back into the apartment, feeling shaken to his core, though he'd spent quite some time pulling himself together.

It wasn't the sex. That had been a touch strange and honestly L felt like he'd almost pushed Johan into it, although the German had gone through the motions like L imagined he did everything – gracefully and calmly. What really threw L was the conversations. Johan had a way with words, wrapping them around L in logical traps before he left him on the rooftop, half-naked and shivering.

Now L's head was spinning with too many contradictions, too many of those pieces of himself that he hated. He could see how easy it would have been for Detective Braun to throw himself off a rooftop. How easy it would be for some to follow Johan.

"What did you find out?" Kira's voice was coldly amused, his back turned to L as he worked on a laptop. The detective let out a slow breath, locking the door behind himself.

"One-hundred-percent." He knew his voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he swallowed against that.

Kira turned the chair around, looking at him for a long moment before standing. "I didn't give you permission to go, you know."

"You didn't send the police after me, either." He slipped into the small kitchenette of their suite, heating up water for tea.

"I tracked you the whole time."

"Why didn't you send someone to catch Johan, then?"

Light was behind him, hands on his hips. "Who says I didn't?" He murmured into L's hair, right behind his ear. L shivered a little, letting out a soft breath.

They wouldn't catch him, of course. Johan had been long gone before L had picked himself up off the roof. L couldn't decide at that moment whether that was a relief or not.

"Good." He looked down at the kettle on the stove, feeling the warmth of the flame on his face.

----

Something was wrong with L. Light could tell in the line of his shoulders, the way he shuffled out of the room quicker than normal. He didn't engage in the same sort of banter. Hardly met Light's eyes.

He didn't think, just followed L, sliding up behind him like a lover, nuzzling behind his ear as he spoke to him. The shiver was gratifying… but still something was wrong. He drew away just a little, looking at him thoughtfully.

_Oh_.

Light's hand shot up, startling L as he caught L's jaw in a bruising grip and tugged his head to the side to survey his neck. His other hand pulled at the scarf the other had carelessly wrapped around his throat, tossing it aside.

There was a mark there. Unmistakable and certainly not one that he left.

He breathed in and out slowly, reigning in his temper, his sense of _possession_. He didn't love L, didn't even _like _him, but he also didn't like sharing. Even less did he like the idea that his prisoner would be so… defiant. He was in no position to be taking lovers, especially not ones like Johan.

"Every detail." He gritted it out slowly, keeping hold of L, even though he was tense to the point that he seemed about to struggle.

"_Every_ detail?" L was baiting him and Light had to keep from snarling softly. Shoving the detective away, feeling a certain sort of satisfaction when he hissed softly in pain. He must have grazed the teapot.

"What exactly happened to make you think it would be a good idea to fuck Johan?"

"You don't have any proof that I fucked him."

Light reached for the waistband of his jeans, grabbing it and hauling him back into him, growling into his ear dangerously. "Should I go looking for proof, then?"

L let out a breath. "Not necessary. I did."

Light growled, a hand dropping to L's waist, gripping it hard. "Why would you do something so stupid?"

L looked away, down. He couldn't help but feel the slight thrill of dominating him, frightening him, even though he knew it was likely not the case. L was playing him, of course, like always.

"It's complicated."

"I can handle complicated."

L grimaced a little. "Let me go."

Light held onto him for another moment, looking directly at L until the detective nodded a little. Slowly, Light relaxed his grip, letting him go.

L collapsed onto the couch, sprawling out on his stomach, dark hair wild and unkempt and falling into his eyes and over his face. "You've read the existentialists, of course."

Light folded his arms, just giving him a flat, disinterested look. "If you think you're going to distract me by discussing philosophy…."

The detective's lips quirked a touch. "Perhaps it is not something you can truly understand. You're not European."

Light seethed, not seeing what that had to do with anything. "So you're admitting you are?"

L stared at him from under his hair, implacably. "'Existence,' from the Latin, 'existere.'" It was a prompt, almost, and Light narrowed his eyes a little, not in the mood for games, but with L there was always _some _type of game.

"To stand out." He defined it flatly, swearing internally that if there was not a point to this, he would absolutely murder L.

L nodded. "To stand out of the world, while remaining inside of it. The world itself is without meaning, and we project meaning onto it."

"What is your point, L?"

"You'll see. This meaning is, of course, fragile – it is only in our own head. So what breaks down this meaning?"

Light groaned a little. Philosophy was so… flighty and inconsequential. Perhaps in that, it suited L perfectly but he still hated to be taken on these tangents. "It can break down for any reason."

"Precisely. One of the most common reasons for this is loss of purpose." L flicked at the carpet lightly, studying it with too much care.

Light's eyes narrowed. "You're telling me you fucked Johan because you're going through an existential crisis?" Light couldn't tell if he was furious, bemused, or amused at this point. Leave it to L to come up with the most _ridiculous _reason for infidelity, ever.

"Of sorts." L's fingers pinched at the carpet, rolling it a little. "It seems to be Johan's talent – engendering these sorts of things."

That brought Light up short, had him frowning and sitting down in the desk chair. "You mean to say that he controls people by breaking down their sense of self, and then giving them himself to live for?"

"Precisely." And L smiled up at him, an almost sweet little smile. "Even your Tenma Kenzou has fallen into this trap of his, in a way."

Light contemplated that for a moment, nodding. It was true, he supposed, though he wondered if it was at all intentional on Johan's part. "What possible use could he have for Tenma trying to kill him?"

L shrugged slowly, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. "Fun, maybe." He chewed on a fingernail and he didn't sound like he really believed that. Also, the idea was preposterous.

"Fun?" Light snorted a little.

"You had fun when I was hunting you, didn't you?"

Light paused, contemplating for a moment, and then nodding to concede the point. "He may also just want a convenient suspect."

"I don't think so." L drummed fingers on his knee lightly. "But I really can't say right now."

Light frowned, watching L. He seemed off, now that he really looked at him. "Is this existential crisis of yours something I will have to worry about in the future?" Not that he cared, but L was one of his tools, for the time being.

"Don't be silly. When have you ever worried about me, Light?" L asked him rhetorically, in a soft little sing-song.

Somehow L's light tone left a sour taste in his mouth. "Go clean yourself up." He let steel back into his voice, making it a clear order.

L's eyes raised back up to him, slightly glassy. They stared each other down for several moments before L slid off the couch, padding into the bathroom.

God damn him. Just… damn him for being so _weird_. Light turned back to the computer, angrily, calling up the case files to start filing away notes on Johan.

----

Despair.

Perhaps that word was too much, but it was the word that existentialists used in situations such as this so L let himself think it with a wry quirk of his lips. He ducked his head under the hot water of the shower, hissing under his breath as it hit his skin, scalding.

Despair was defined, in the philosophy Kira found so useless, as the breakdown in one of the pillars of identity. Perhaps L was finally experiencing that… though he admitted it was a long time coming. Since Kira won, and if he really was honest, perhaps even longer.

Johan had been right – he was no longer a detective, not really. He likely would never be one again, and he… didn't know what he was, other than that. Kira's toy was an unattractive option.

Even this was unlike him – primping in some useless way. What did showering every day and keeping his hair combed and his clothes neat (and lord, almost wrinkle-free, thanks to Kira's obsession with drycleaning), mean?

What real use did L, the best detective in the world, have? And if he was no longer a detective, what was he?

He couldn't tell anymore if the questions he asked himself were rhetorical – were they there simply because he needed to experience Johan's manipulations firsthand, or because he really was breaking down? He had never had a breakdown before, not even when Kira won and he was first imprisoned. He didn't know what one _felt _like.

They had to solve this case. L rested his forehead against the still-cold tile of the wall, pressed his body against it. He had to prove himself again, if only to himself.

If they could put Johan in jail, it would be worth it. If they could win.

He would prefer to do it alone, to cut Light out of the equation entirely. But the fact of the matter was that he had to rely on Light for the most basic of things – for police backup, for the room and the laptops and the camera access. There was only so much that he could do on his own.

It was so damn _frustrating _to hide behind the name of Kira. He could do so much more than this. There was a time when he would have already had Johan in a high-security prison awaiting trial before the span of a week was up.

But now he worked for Kira, and every move was scrutinized, every thought monitored, every motive questioned.

It was enough for him to contemplate insanity. A career change – was a villain in this day and age a true villain or a bit of a revolutionary, a hero?

He twisted off the shower and stood there, dripping wet, chewing his thumb as he stared at the white walls.

Nothing had changed, not really. The objective was still the same. He had a job to do. And to do that job, he had to play Kira's games.

But that, he promised himself, would not last.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the delays – I've had a busy semester and a lot of family problems.

If this chapter had a title, it would be something like: wrenches in the gears.

We're heading into the final few chapters, I think. Not bad for a fic that was supposed to be 10 pages, max, and is already five times that.

----

They settled back into a familiar routine… L seemed to have fallen back in line, though he had even more of a tendency to stare off into the distance, to withdraw. Still, Light allowed it, though he himself wasn't sure why.

L was different, shaken from his brief meeting with Johan. Light didn't know what to do about it. It wasn't that he cared if L was miserable, but his work was suffering. Johan's trail had gone frustratingly cold and Tenma hadn't contacted them and he needed L at the top of his game.

But he didn't know what to do to get the detective there. All he knew how to do was provoke him, upset him. Short-lived victories that did nothing to increase the detective's ability to focus.

So he changed tactics. Worked at setting L at ease. It was strange to be polite to him, felt stilted and confining. He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep it up. Instead of responding, L took it for granted almost, nodding at Light vaguely whenever he spoke, otherwise ignoring him.

Fine. Light was too furious with him to care anymore, deciding to work on finding Tenma-sensei himself.

----

Days had gone by. He had lost count – or perhaps never really started counting – days of tight, icy politeness that had L reeling even more than he had been after his meeting with Johan. Whatever Kira was up to, it bothered him quietly and disrupted his concentration.

By the second mistake that made him let out a irritated string of curses, Light had turned to him with a cool look and a mocking, drawled "Existential crisis again?"

"Shut up, Light." He gritted out tightly.

For several moments he was aware of searching eyes on him before he heard Light turn back to his own work.

Maybe he wasn't planning something. L's head had been in a whirlwind, thinking of too many possibilities, picking up and discarding them so quickly that it was exhausting even him.

And if contemplating the case and Johan and Kira's next move wasn't enough, he couldn't stop thinking about them. About L, Kira, what they both had done and where they fit – if anywhere.

Damn Johan and his skill at manipulation. L raged silently, absolutely furious that he allowed their prey to unsettle him, to make him look at everything from new angles.

"Perhaps you should tell me about it." The voice suddenly behind him sent chills up his spine. He hadn't heard Kira stop his typing, or get up. Too lost, too vulnerable. Goddamnit.

Kira slid up to him, hands dropping to his shoulders, rubbing them in a mockery of a soothing gesture. Or perhaps it wasn't meant to be a mockery, it simply ended up _being _one by virtue of Kira being Kira.

L reached for a lollipop from the bowl of candy he still insisted on keeping near him, toying with it between his fingers. For a moment he wanted to obfuscate, to keep Kira out of his thoughts. But no – if he was going to have these thoughts, damned if he was going to have them alone.

"Johan makes me think. In a way that you once did." He couldn't help that small dig, honestly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kira's voice was tight and L didn't care.

"Both Kira… and L… are fallacious. We both have worked outside the confines of human decency, to further what we see as the greater good.".

"Howso?" Kira's hands were light on his shoulders. L almost expected his knuckles to be white with anger, but he supposed that the superhuman control still hadn't slipped. He really hadn't expected it to.

"Kira's justice is empty. It makes promises that it cannot deliver." He chose his words slowly as he stared at the screen in front of him. "How many times have we had governments in this world who have done horrible things? The Nazis, the Russians, the Americans … even Japan have all had government officials who quietly commit atrocities – at home and abroad – for the 'good' of the people."

"Kira cannot be omnipotent or omnipresent. He is human, Light. _You _are human, for all that they revere you as a god." He paused, popping the lollipop into his mouth and leaning forward out of Kira's grip to scrutinize something on the screen of the computer. A grainy image that tugged at his memory, begged to be put in its place.

"Am I?" Ah. There was the harshness that he relished, threading into Light's voice and reminding L of how it used to be with them. The conflict just making life sweeter and sharper.

"Of course you are, Light." He paused and then laughed a little. "And Johan has no use for humans."

Kira's hands grasped his shoulders again, fingers finally tight, bringing a familiar and almost pleasant pain. "You think he doesn't care about me?"

"Someone without a name has nothing to fear from Kira's justice." L said it softly.

Kira's voice had razor bite to it. "What?"

"Something Johan said, when we talked."

"And what do you think it means?"

L let out a breath and relaxed as much as he could in Kira's hands, thinking. "The journalist Tenma was working with… Wolfgang Grimmer. On the surface, he is everything that he claims to be. However if you dig deeper… every single one of his documentation is faked. He doesn't exist." L gestured to the computer so that Kira could double-check his work if he liked. "A Kinderheim graduate. I wonder… does he even remember his true name? So, functionally, he would be…"

Finally Kira's fingers loosened, slipping off his shoulders. L relaxed for a moment, then inhaled sharply as Kira spun the chair around to face him. "Someone without a name. An interesting theoretical concept."

The eyes that bore into him were cold, calculating, but for the time being held no malice. L let out a breath, speaking quietly. "Can the note kill someone like that?"

"I have no idea." For the first time, Kira really looked _human _again. Doubt, uncertainty. All the emotion that neither of them let exist, coalescing in a single instant, draining away the next. Kira reached up, tugging the lollipop from L's mouth, and replaced it with his own mouth. The kiss was hard and punishing, all teeth and tongue and iron.

Kira kissed him until L felt like him might actually pass out, and then he pulled away, hand gripping his shoulder, pinning him back to the chair. "You will not push me any further, or we'll go back to the handcuffs. Do I make myself clear?"

L swallowed, nodding just once; hating himself for backing down in the face of Kira's anger. But Johan was right… and he had no idea what to do about it.

---

Weeks more of L keeping his head down around Kira and Johan's trail having gone frustratingly cold were almost intolerable. Light was about to do something drastic when he finally got a call.

Without a word to L, he left, going to the hotel room, knocking on the door and standing in breathless appreciation when Tenma opened it cautiously, before letting him in.

"Sensei." He stepped in, shutting it behind himself as he drank in Tenma's appearance. He was cleaner-cut this time, wearing neat if worn clothing, shaved. His hair was still long and ragged and he was still terribly thin, but it didn't detract from the whole picture.

"Light-san." Tenma took a chair. "I'd offer tea, but this isn't exactly the best-stocked hotel…"

Light smiled, sitting too. "I'm fine. Are you all right?"

Tenma hesitated. "Yes. No. I don't know." He sighed and reached into the bag he was carrying, handing Light a file. "I feel like this is going to be the end."

Light felt his eyebrows raising in surprise as he took the file, opening it slowly. "What happened?"

"We saw him. Nina and I." Tenma's face looked drawn, grim. "Spoke to him. He…." Tenma shook his head slowly. "I fear he will do something drastic."

"Why?" Light said, a touch dryly. "The things he's done so far aren't drastic enough?"

Tenma pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "Worse. Much worse. I'll be leaving as soon as possible."

"For?" Light said distractedly, reading a little more carefully, details more complex than he ever expected to learn about Johan's life.

"It's in the file." Tenma rubbed the back of his neck lightly. "I think he plans to end it."

Light let the file shut, looking up at him with a frown. "End it?"

"Nina shook him… more than I think anyone ever has." Tenma kept his eyes down, on the papers between them. "I cannot be sure what his plans are. But if I know him… the whole town is in danger." Tenma said it softly, looking pained. "He may be planning the ultimate suicide."

"Ultimate suicide?"

"We have found Franz Bonaparta. I cannot imagine that Johan has not discovered the same."

Light frowned more, but let it go. "You cannot go." He cut in, already thinking of the troops he would send, in Tenma's stead.

"Light-san." Tenma began, then tightened his jaw. "Light-kun." He said it firmly, making Light look up, his eyes narrowing. "I am sharing this with you only because I feel you should know. I will not have you interfere again."

"Excuse me?" Light felt himself flooded with disbelief, staring at the doctor who was no longer slouched, but sitting very straight and gazing at him directly.

"You tried to keep me out of this once before, but it is impossible. I am the one Johan has designated to bring him down. I won't sit aside like a coward again." Tenma paused, then when Light couldn't find a thought to fling at him, he pressed on. "You may be Kira-sama, but you are not a god."

"What precisely do you mean?" Light grit out, feeling an echo of L in Tenma, suddenly.

"Kira-sama is too idealistic for this world. I may have doubted Kira-sama's justice before… but now, I am convinced." Tenma said, standing. "I will end this – I have to. But it will not be to punish Johan for his wrongs."

"And what will it be for, then?" Light said it harshly, standing too. "You call me idealistic, but you are the one – you act almost as if Johan is _sympathetic_."

Tenma flinched, looking away from him for a moment. "Perhaps he is, in a way. But that isn't important either. All that is important is saving who we can."

"If he is so sympathetic, why would you have to save anyone?" Light reached over the table, grabbing Tenma's arm hard, dragging him around. "He's a monster."

"Anyone can become a monster, Kira-sama." Tenma said it quietly, twisting his arm to easily break Light's grip. "You should, perhaps, know that better than anyone."

Light inhaled sharply. "You are treading on thin ice."

Tenma shrugged a little, picking up his bag. "I don't care. I'm doing what I have to do."

Light seethed, but didn't make a move to stop Tenma as he headed for the door. He waited for several minutes before calling the police,

Tenma would elude them, almost surely… but they could follow.

He was on the way back to the hotel when he got the news.

----

L should have known something was wrong when Light stepped into the room so silently he barely heard anything but the click of the lock.

How did you do it?" His voice was low and menacing and made L's eyebrows shoot up because for once he had no idea what he was being accused of.

"Do what, Light?" He kept his voice level. Kira wouldn't believe true confusion though he was feeling it, ironic as it was.

"You couldn't know where they were, and I've been monitoring all your activity. Unless, of course, you recruited Johan..."

L scoffed quietly, ignoring the sting in his lip, the taste of more blood. "Johan isn't recruitable. I've told you this already."

"Oh yes…" Kira's voice was perfectly a perfectly smooth, seductive purr that did nothing to soothe L. "You _told _me Johan wouldn't work for anyone."

"Has he worked for anyone else?" L shot back. "Anyone offering him power, fame, money?"

Kira's eyes on him were hard and cold. Unconvinced.

"He hasn't and he won't. You know as well as I do that I have nothing to offer him. The only thing I could offer him would be you – and we've already established he gives you about as much care as you deserve."

L expected the punch, after that. He never quite expected how strong Kira was, but that had always been the case. He stumbled back, fingers pressing to his split lower lip, laughing a bit under his breath.

"You always did have a violent temper, Light. But honestly, in this situation, beating the answer out of me won't work. I still don't know what _happened._"

"Misa and Mikami."

The answer was flat, but enough. L's eyes widened slowly. "They're…"

"Dead." Kira grabbed L's arm, pulling him in. "How did you do it?"

"I didn't." L grit out, seeing the madness in Kira's eyes. It was always present, but rose and fell like a tide. It was rising now. "You know I am not the only enemy Kira has made."

Light opened his mouth to answer him, but the phone cut him off, insistently ringing. He snatched it up, still fixing L with a glare that threatened to burst into rage at any moment. "Yes?"

Light listened for several seconds before he sucked in a breath sharply. "I see. Be ready for us in five minutes." He hung up the phone slowly.

"Trouble?" L asked, warily.

"Not yet." Light stalked towards him, hand shooting out to grab L around the neck. "You will behave while we finish this. Do you understand me?"

L nodded slowly, unable to tear his eyes away from Light's, or keep his thoughts away from one swirling certainty.

He had to get away.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The fic that wouldn't stay small is slowly heading towards an end. Eeps! I anticipate one or two more chapters after this… thank you SO MUCH to all of you who have been reading and reviewing! I'm glad you all like this mash-up as much as I do!

---

The world was blood and bodies.

Light had toured war-torn countries, had seen cities that had been battlefields before, but there was something far more chilling about this massacre. Blood and mud and rainwater streaked the streets, and as darkness fell it was impossible to tell the difference. The very silence of the town was sinister, though it should have been reassuring – the town had been secured. Still, it would be so easy for someone to have hidden, with a gun. The dozen guards they had were small comfort.

L looked disturbed, next to him. Even in his rage at the detective he could see that. L's shoulders were hunched more than usual, his hands fisted and shoved deeply into his pockets.

"The perfect suicide." L murmured next to him, shaking his head.

Light hissed under his breath. "Call it what it is. A bloody massacre."

L nodded, turning the corner with Light. "There they are."

Several police cars lined the street, lights flashing. Medical helicopters waited in the fields. So many people to help – but it was far too little, far too late. The police were rushing around everywhere, corralling survivors, wrapping blankets around them in the rain. Light ran his eyes over them, looking for Tenma.

The fool. The utter _fool._

"Shit." L's curse dragged Light's attention back over to him, noting how the detective had straightened a little, staring at a gurney being pushed by a paramedic. The patient had blonde hair that shimmered in the streetlights.

"That's him." L's voice was faint. "Johan."

Light narrowed his eyes, watching him. He looked almost like a doll… porcelain pale skin, faintly pink lips, pale blonde hair. But his face was streaked with blood, a bandage wrapped around his head.

The loaded him into the helicopter, immediately working to keep his heart beating, his lungs moving. Light growled under his breath, taking a step to stop them.

"He's been shot, Light." L's voice was quiet. "You want to find Dr. Tenma, right?"

Light snarled, turning on him. "You want me to spare him?"

"No." L met his gaze directly. "He is dying. That was a bullet wound. Go find the Doctor, before they arrest him."

"And what makes you think I don't want him arrested?"

L frowned deeply. "What happened, when you saw him?"

Light gestured around. "He refused my help. This is _his _fault!"

L shook his head slowly. "You know that isn't true. You also shouldn't feel guilty."

"I _don't_." Light grit out, completely focused on L. "Don't presume to know me."

L shook his head. "I would. I do." He turned his eyes back to the scene before them. "But does that matter now?"

"You just want your lover back, don't you?" He knew his voice was dipping into dangerous smoothness. Was L truly this shallow? Or had he simply lost sight of right and wrong. Whatever his disagreements with Kira's vision, Johan was a murderer. He deserved to die.

"There's more than fucking in this world." L rounded on him, rage leaking out through the cracks in his usually perfect mask. "You believe I'm thinking about sex right now?"

Light snorted but his answer was lost in the commotion that erupted near them. Medics running, and they could hear them calling for Doctor Tenma.

"He'll save him." L said quietly. "And I don't want to simply stand here uselessly." He spun on his heel, stalking off. Light watched him angrily, but didn't stop him.

----

Hours later – so many hours that it might have been days or he might have just pushed himself past the point where he had any concept of time, L found himself once again with Light, in the observation room adjacent to surgery.

Tenma was there, suited up, gloved hands covered in Johan's blood. Struggling to save his life. It was a marvel to watch the doctor work – he had read all the reports of course, the word genius applied so liberally to Tenma that he seemed the very definition of it. Hyperbole, L had always figured.

Except it wasn't. He moved with precision, certainty. An economy of motion that was the very definition of graceful. L was no brain surgeon himself, but he could see the beauty in the surgery, even amidst the gore.

And he did it for _hours_, a feat that would have been impressive even without the horror that had been the day. He worked with a single-minded determination that left L breathless, wondering, and wanting _something else_ with a sudden, keen-edged need.

Kira stood on the other side of the room, arms folded, jaw clenched tightly, angrily.

Watching him, L finally decided to break the silence. Needed to, or in that too-silent room, he felt like he would go crazy. "Look at him. Does the world need us?" His voice was quiet and grave and small, even to himself. It was a wonder Kira heard him, turning to look at him with molten honey intensity. "Does it really need us… or does it need more of him?"

He broke his eyes from Kira's, instead watching Dr. Tenma as he worked, hands stained with blood in a way that his would never be, in a way Light's would never be. Saving lives, healing without judging.

Kira didn't say anything, and L was glad of it. He was too tired for this, for any of it. He leaned forward, pulling his hands to his chest, hunching his shoulders around himself and rested his forehead against the cool glass.

"Kira destroys the capacity of us to forgive, to move on." The words came out as a murmur, he barely realized he was saying them. "I want…"

"What. To forgive? Or forgiveness?" The other's voice was cold and sharp and L sighed deeply, opening his eyes once again to watch the doctor work, sure about every movement. He missed feeling that sureness with a dull ache. The only thing he was sure about anymore was his exhaustion, the weight of everything he'd done and been and become pressing down into him so that he could barely breathe.

"I don't know." He took a breath and pressed himself back to his normal slouchiness, turning back to Kira. "Are you going to execute him?"

"Wouldn't you?"

L remained silent. He would have, without hesitation. There was no question that it was the right thing to do, but… he glanced over his shoulder again, looking at the sliver of pale face that was visible. Shrugging finally.

"It's not my world anymore, Kira. What I would do is now irrelevant. But I wonder… why have you not, yet?"

He didn't look back at Kira, who let out a soft, frustrated breath. Silence fell in the room until the door closed and L was alone.

Alone. He watched Tenma working for several more minutes before taking the chance.

----

He paced down the hallway, furious but also… twisted inside, somehow. Somehow L's words had touched a place in him he didn't think that he had.

L was right, of course, though he would never admit it to the smug bastard.

Johan. Vivid blue eyes and blonde hair looked up at him, tiredly. He stopped in his tracks, for a moment _seeing_ the bastard before realizing it wasn't him. It was the sister, sitting in one of the banks of chairs near the operation room.

"Ms. Fortner." He practically stumbled over the words.

"Kira." Her voice was cool, tired. Wary in the way Tenma-sensei's voice so often had been. It spurred him to go take a seat next to her, out of some sort of obstinacy that he didn't want to look at too closely. He also did not want to

"Are you all right?"

Her lips quirked a little, thinly. It wasn't really a smile, but there was grim amusement in it. "As well as can be expected."

"You're waiting for Tenma-sensei?" It was the reasonable assumption. One would have to be blind to miss how she leaned on him, how she wanted him. Light was far from blind, and he had to keep tight reign on his jealousy.

"I'm waiting to see if my brother lives."

Light felt his eyebrows draw together in bemusement. Nina, of everyone, he had expected to want justice for her brother.

"You.. want him to live?" He couldn't be sure that was what she meant of course, but somehow, he felt it.

She regarded him for such a long time that he wasn't sure she _would _speak again. "I was a law major, in Heidelberg, before all of this. I studied Kira's philosophies in depth."

"And?" He frowned deeply, disliking the way the conversation turned, already.

"And although, perhaps, I would have agreed as a student, removed from the situation.… now I cannot."

"Why is that?"

"Because killing Johan would not be justice." She pushed herself up, standing, looking down at him.

He couldn't keep the incredulous scoff out of his voice, and her eyes narrowed, again sharpening to the focus he imagined would have been present in Johan's.

"Do not presume to sit in judgment, Kira. They may believe you are a god. You may even yourself. But you are not, and pretending so is…" She broke off, frustrated and coldly angry, shrugging sharply. "I've _seen _the damage playing God can do."

He was caught, unsure what to say, looking into her eyes, fierce and bright.

"I have no say in your influence. But if you ask my opinion, I will give it to you. Kira is unnatural in this world, and will harm it more than can be imagined."

A door opened behind her, Nina's eyes jerking away from his to stare as the light for the operation room turning off. Nurses filed out, grey-faced and exhausted. Other doctors. None of them made eye contact with either of them.

Tenma stepped out after what seemed to be a strangely long moment, his eyes immediately finding Nina, nodding to her gravely.

The girl let out a deep, shaky breath and immediately went to throw her arms around the doctor. He held her tightly and Light, with his heart dry in his mouth, found he couldn't do anything but slip away, allowing them their moment.

Perhaps he needed one himself.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I want to take a moment to give a great big THANK YOU to those of you who have been reading and enjoying this fic. You all are super-awesome. An even bigger thank-you to those of you who have reviewed – you guys say the nicest things!

As I've mentioned before we're on the slow coast to the finish. There will probably be one more chapter after this and perhaps an epilogue. Enjoy!

-----

It was a long time before Tenma left Nina. Light waited, sipping some of the worst coffee he had ever tasted. Hospitals were even worse than police stations, he noted ruefully. He wasn't sure if it was the smell of the antiseptic or if something had worked its way into the water, but it tasted like shit.

He had no idea where L had gotten off to. It niggled slightly, but he shoved it aside. There was more to worry about than one malfunctioning detective.

Tenma stepped around the corner, into the hallway where Light was sitting and he stood, quickly, happily abandoning the coffee on the small table.

"I wondered if you would be waiting." Tenma said quietly, clearly tired.

Light took several moments to say anything, because in truth he didn't know what to say. "Is he…"

"Alive?" Tenma shrugged a little, nodding. "He is."

"You sentimental fool." Light knew his voice was sharp and didn't care, advancing on him.

"Am I?" Tenma folded his arms, calmly holding his ground, something that Light wasn't sure if was infuriated or impressed by.

"You know he'll kill again."

"I know no such thing."

"Excuse me?" Light couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not from _Dr. Tenma_ of all people.

The doctor looked thoughtful. "There is a large chance that he will never wake from his coma."

Light grimaced. Tenma was being obtuse, probably deliberately so. "And if he does?"

"He will not kill again."

"How do you know?" He hated how he sounded slightly plaintive.

Tenma sighed and dropped into one of the chairs, his shoulders slumped, the dark circles standing out under his eyes. "Of course I am not psychic, but... I am as certain as I can be. Johan is not the same person."

"Not the same person." He snorted. "Really, you're ridiculous."

"Am I? Then why don't you kill him yourself, Kira?" Tenma's tone was not the same mocking tone that L's might have been – but it still rankled. Light, of course, could not admit that it was impossible. He still wasn't even ready to accept that it was impossible. If Misa were still alive… He cut the thought off ruthlessly.

"Call it an experiment. A test of sorts." Light smiled tightly, without mirth. "I was thinking of offering the power of Kira to you."

Tenma flinched a little, a faint frown on his face. "I would not have accepted." He said it quickly, without hesitation.

"Why?" Light could hear the tension under the surface of his voice, threatening to erupt, but he reigned it in, tightly.

"Johan and you both tried to convince me that one human can be intrinsically worth more than another. You both tried to prove to me that people – even the worst of people – cannot change. But you are both wrong. Humans can become anything, Light. They can become monsters, but they can also become better. I believe that now more strongly than ever." His voice was light, almost wondering.

Light snarled under his breath. Stupid, _stupid _man. "Even if you are right, do you really believe that Johan will want to change?"

"I suppose, if he wakes up, we will just have to see." The doctor stood, bowing formally, then straightened. "Now you will have to excuse me. I need to sleep."

Light watched him leave, feeling strongly that it was the last time he'd ever see the doctor.

And with that, there was no reason to stay at the hospital. He turned his back on it, left after ascertaining that L had already done the same.

He arrived to find the hotel room empty. Completely empty and L's things were gone. The only thing left of him was the tracker, neatly picked open and lying on the middle of the bed. L, somehow, had figured out how to get it off and allow it to still run. Clever as ever.

It wasn't a surprise. That was the thought that he hadn't thought, what had been bothering him before. He should have felt angry, but he didn't. He was filled with anticipation, hot and curled in his stomach.

For a moment he contemplated writing his name and being done with it. But no. That was far too simple and wouldn't be satisfying. He got himself a drink before he called his contact in the local police, smirking as he gave the order to have L brought in alive.

Perhaps this is what he wanted, what he was waiting for.

----

L was good. Surprisingly good for someone who Light had always assumed stayed in a comfortable hotel room without directly engaging in cases. He, at least at first, seemed to disappear without a trace, leaving the local police as useless as usual. It took a lot of detective work to pick up his trail, work that he had done himself in order to avoid dealing with the police department's incompetence. Light found most of the information digging through L's files on the computer, finding the back-doors he had created.

The plane ticket was the best find, and had brought him to England. The rental car had been well-hidden, but once Light had gotten to the airport, things fell into place. Bless England for having cameras everywhere – it became enough to track L through them.

This was a mystery. The imposing brick building in front of him was deserted, had been for several years, according to the records he could access on it. In fact, it had been deserted since just after he had captured L. It seemed to have fallen into some disrepair, since. Still, L had gone there directly and it clearly held some significance.

Light pushed his way in, cautiously. He was alone, having decided – perhaps foolishly – to go without police presence. It was thrilling, like old times, to face L on his own. He was the better man. He was a god. He knew it. He did not need anything else.

The halls echoed ever-so slightly as he wandered through them, stepping into a large room – it looked like it had been an oversized parlor. He started as he realized that he was no longer alone. L-but-not-L sat on a moth-eaten plush bench under a large window, a book in his hand. The light caught his hair which was so blonde to be nearly white. It took a moment for Light to realize that it _was _L that he was looking at, even though the features were identical. Well-fitted brown slacks, light-blue button-up shirt. The only things that remained of L were those deep, bruised eyes and his fine bones and too-pale skin.

Light frowned, stepping into the room, the movement catching L's attention. He didn't seem surprised or upset. He simply straightened a little, looking up at Light steadily.

"L." His footsteps echoed just a little as he wandered up to the detective, staring down at him for a long moment.

"So this is how you managed to get past the police." He reached out to take some of the hair in his fingers, combing them through and then letting it fall again. "I admit, I didn't expect it of you."

"I was trained in field work, Light." L said it smoothly, calmly, as he closed the book and set it aside.

"Hn." He should have expected that, but L was so socially maladroit. "What is this place?"

"My home, in a manner of speaking."

Light felt his eyes widening a little. "England?" This was it. The information that L had always taunted him with, always hinted at but never admitted. It set him back for a moment, head spinning with possibility.

"Apparently." His voice was dry and full of humor.

"What is this place? Unless of course you're a lordling and you never bothered to tell me."

L laughed just a touch, humorlessly. "An orphanage."

Oh. Light looked around. So many pieces fell into place with that simple admission. L's obsession with Johan, even his obsession with the children's' books. It clicked.

"You were raised here?"

"An interesting question." He shifted and with the movement Light could see a rosary wrapped around his wrist, dangling from his hand. "But first, I have one for you."

"L…" He said, warningly, but allowed him to continue, eyes studying the cross hanging from L's pale fingers for a long moment before he looked back up.

A slight smirk twisted the detective's mouth – one full of as much pain as humor. "What good have we done, Kira? Who have we helped? Did we prevent even _one _death?"

His voice was full of uncharacteristic passion, he sat ramrod-straight and his eyes flashed angrily. Light drew in a breath, feeling again so much more unsure about the Note, about Kira, about himself than was comfortable. Damn this case.

"There is no divine judgment to be had here – no justice. We failed, both of us. Kira _and_ L."

"We didn't fail. We did stop him." Light pointed out quickly, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"No we didn't. He stopped himself."

"You and Tenma-sensei…" Light snarled under his breath. "Neither of you seem to acknowledge that Johan would not have stopped, and he will not stop now."

"Of course he won't. He has lost his reason to kill."

"Even if that is true, does it change what must be done?"

L paused, leaning his head back against the window, eyes trailed on the ceiling thoughtfully. "We have both continued on this whole time as if one is defined by their past. However, if you had two men – both murderers – one who has no memory of the crimes he committed and is now living peacefully, without hurting anyone. The other remembers each one in detail, and as such is 'trapped' in his life, continuing his crimes. Which one would deserve judgment more?"

"Whoever has killed the most." Light answered without hesitation.

L half-laughed, as if he anticipated the answer. "And if they had killed the same amount?"

"They would deserve equal judgment."

A quirk of an eyebrow. "And if the one who forgot his past was now a humanitarian?"

Light let out a frustrated breath. "L, do stop trying to mire me in your meaningless ethical and philosophical problems."

"Fine, then, answer me this. What make your reasons to judge more valid than his? He killed, like you do, to keep an innocent safe – not some nameless faceless innocent, but his own sister. He killed, like you do, out of vengeance. What makes your hands cleaner? The fact that you do so in the most cold-blooded way possible – by writing down a _name_?" L said, scornfully. "Kira is a coward. I have more respect for Johan's methods. At least he was unafraid of what he had become."

Light cut him off, angrily. "He killed indiscriminately. He involved innocents."

"Kira, _you_ have involved innocents to keep yourself and your agenda safe." Light's jaw snapped shut on the tirade he was going to start, meeting L's eyes. L's voice dropped, but was no less intense. "Kira, tell me you would not burn the world, to keep what happened to them from happening to anyone, ever again."

"You will not get me to admit that his methods were understandable, L. If you think you can, you are as insane as Johan."

L nodded. "An interesting point. But sometimes I wonder, how am I different than Johan?"

"He's a murderer. You _used to_ put murderers behind bars. You used to send them to the death penalty." He snapped the last part, reminding L that he had no right to moralize. L was as guilty of judgment as he was.

When L spoke again, several heartbeats later, his voice had lost the inquisitive fire it had earlier. "Yet we are both simply products of our training."

That made Light frown deeply, back-tracking, realizing L was trying to tell him something, something real. "Your training?"

"I was chosen to be L. Johan was chosen too."

Light stayed silent, absorbing this, absorbing the fact that L was telling him so much, so suddenly. He tilted his head a little, trying to encourage him to go on. The detective stayed silent for several infuriating moments before shrugging. "I was adopted because of my intelligence. My aptitude for solving puzzles. I was _trained _to be L. That has always been my purpose."

Light slowly sat next to him, feeling his breath sort of leave him. "How old were you?"

"Young." He shrugged a little. "It doesn't matter. The past is the past, now."

Light hissed under his breath, looking at him angrily. "Fine, let's talk about the future."


	9. Chapter 9

Oh my little one-shot-that-could. How you have grown.

This is the ninth and final chapter of Past in Present. There will be a short epilogue posted sometime in the next couple of days. There may be some side-stories more from the perspective of Tenma and the other Monster characters if the urge hits me someday, but they are as of yet unplanned.

I would like to take a moment to say thank you SO MUCH to all of you who have reviewed and stuck with this fic. I didn't expect this fic to have garnered any fans, and those of you who have supported it have left some of the nicest comments I've ever received. I'm sorry I haven't responded to all of you individually, but please take this thank-you to heart.

I'm going to be sorry to finish this fic… you have no idea! I consider it some of my best writing. Have to give some props to the creators (whoever they may be) of the existentialism pages over on Wiki – they helped me inform some of the themes in this story. :)

-----

"Fine, let's talk about the future."

"Let's. Are you going to kill me?" L's voice was crisp, almost businesslike.

"If you don't stop talking about useless things, I might."

After a tense, breathless moment, L leaned his head back and laughed under his breath. "There is only one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide."

"Camus." Light grit out between his teeth, feeling his headache spiraling out of control. Philosophy again. "L, do you _want _me to kill you?"

L's eyes were unfocused and inward – one of those mindless expressions that Light _hated_. "I don't really know."

"I could you know. Easily." He leaned closer, and slid a hand down L's arm slowly, tightening around his wrist and dragging his arm up, ignoring the fact that he must have been causing pain. "What is this?"

"A sign." L sounded tired, but also something similar to hopeful, and it made Light give him a hard, guarded look.

Light scoffed softly. "A sign? Are you converting?"

That wrung a wry smile from L's lips "Who says I wasn't already Catholic?"

"Are you?" He grit out tightly.

"No."

"God_damnit_. L…" Light hissed at him, so utterly _sick _of his mind games he contemplated just choking him right then and there.

"It's a sign of faith, Light." His voice was calm and collected, and despite himself Light found himself cooling down just a little.

----

L fingered the rosary. Of course it wasn't a proper rosary. It was a code, and based on the symbolism, he could say with certainty who left it.

He had come here simply to do some thinking, to make his decisions. He'd already guessed the orphanage would be abandoned. It was a precaution that he had always warned them to take in the event of his disappearance. He hadn't guessed that there would be a message left for him.

The necklace looked almost identical to a normal rosary, to the untrained eye… which Light certainly was. There were only four beads before the centerpiece. The very first one was missing. The next three were all still there.

L missing. His three successors all alive and well, at least when this was left.

Most of the rest of the beads represented the Wammy's children. All were safe and accounted for. The top of the rosary held three beads, separated from the rest. Two missing. Kira two and three, he could only assume.

They were out there, and they were taking up the fight. By the rosary, and the news Light had told him days before… they were winning.

He couldn't explain his relief.

"Faith my ass." Kira's voice was harsh, and brought him back to focus.

"I know what happened to the other Kiras, by the way." He let himself drop into a light sing-song, knowing that it would drive Kira crazy and not caring.

Sure enough Kira's hand tightened on him, bruising, bone-crushingly tight, but it didn't bother him. "Oh…" Kira's voice had dropped to that dark-honey dangerous tone and it made L's head spin, feeling like he was playing a particularly heady game of Russian Roulette. "Yes. We did need to finish our conversation about that."

L grinned, knowing that his expression had turned a bit maniacal. "It really is quite simple. What you have always failed to see, Light, is that L is a title as much as a name – in every sense."

"Be less cryptic."

"It is an _inherited _title." L said slowly, as if talking to a child. "I may have been the first, but the position has always had heirs… and now they are hunting Kira. They're hunting you."

Kira sucked in a breath, eyes darkening, wrapping his other hand around L's throat and pressing him back firmly. "Then we'll just do something about it."

L shook his head, swallowing, realizing he had just enough room to breathe and talk. "Before you decide to force me to write the names… I should warn you that even I myself do not know them." L allowed himself to look bland, bored even. "I haven't seen them in years and for security purposes none of us ever knew each other's real names."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't actually care if you do or not." L let out a deep breath. "I am retiring, effective immediately."

Kira smirked, bringing his mouth down to L's ear, nuzzling. "You think you have a choice in that..?" Purring the words dangerously.

"Of course I do." He smiled, realizing that he didn't affect him anymore. "It doesn't matter if you let me go or kill me. Have a public execution if you like. L is dead."

"Why don't I just have a private execution here?"

L shrugged. "You could. It would take the pressure of making a decision off of me."

Kira laughed harshly. "And what decisions are left to you, L? You are no longer a free agent."

"Yes I am." L finally moved, pushing Light's hand off his throat firmly. "I told you already, L is dead. You will not re-imprison me. You will kill me or let me go."

"Let you go. So you can run off and join your heirs?"

L raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. "You think that is the only thing I might wish to do? On the contrary, I believe it is best to accept my defeat in this instance and retire from formal detective work altogether."

"You've been trained to _be _a detective, L. Didn't you just say that's all you know?"

"I am going to do things on my own terms for once." L felt exhilarated, almost like laughing. "Of course I do have the rights to other detective's codes and could resume under a different name if I wanted, but I doubt I will. I may have been raised as a detective, but I do not have to be L… and I do not have to catch criminals if I do not choose to."

"What else does a detective do?"

"Many things. I thought that perhaps I would take up writing." He nodded to the corner, to a beat-up duffel bag that looked heftier than L himself.

Kira's eyes followed the movement, narrowing a bit in thought. "What is that?"

"Grimmer's notes. The evidence he collected on Kinderheim. He will not be able to finish his work… perhaps I can do it for him."

This seemed to throw Kira, who stared at the bag for several more moments before looking back at L. "Why do you care about Kinderheim?" His voice was disdainful and for the first time in a long time, L allowed himself to feel truly furious.

"Why _don't_ you?" He asked, sharply. "Do you think the past is content to stay in one spot? Do you think that it does not inform the present?" He rose to his feet, looking down at Kira. "What on earth is to prevent people from creating another Kinderheim?"

"There is no need for a project like Kinderheim in the world I am creating."

Kira's ego never failed to disgust him, L realized as he growled softly, under his breath. "You think there is _need _for a project like Kinderheim in _any _world? You think your world is truly better than the world we left behind? It is not. Your world is _more _brutal and savage. No one likes dancing to the whims of a dictator. How long do you think it will be before the people rise up against you?"

Kira scoffed lightly. "Who would dare?"

"Anyone who has been paying attention. Anyone who chafes under the yoke of Kira's restrictions. Everyone knows that Kira needs a name. What is to stop anyone from secretly raising an army of Johans?" L stepped away while still keeping an eye on L. He leaned to get a bottle of water out of the large bag, sipping it. "It seems that I am the least of your troubles."

Kira was seething, it was communicated by every tense line of his jaw, his shoulders, the way his hands clenched at his sides. L turned to face him, directly.

"And an expose on Kinderheim is supposed to what, provide me with some _protection_ from this?"

"No." L said it coolly. "I personally do not care if Kira succeeds or fails. I don't care if you live or die."

"Liar."

"Am I?" L murmured softly, shrugging. "Perhaps. I don't really know, myself." He shook his head. "But if you are worried about any potential writing exposing your weak points, don't. All your important weaknesses are already exposed. But if it makes you feel any better, your censors do control the media, don't they?"

Kira didn't say anything, but acknowledged it with a slight nod of his head.

"Well then. I don't see how I could possibly harm you." L smiled, reaching to pick up the bag, letting out a breath, straightening under the weight of it. Grimmer had been substantially taller and broader.

"One step out of line…" Kira breathed out lightly.

L half-laughed. "Oh, don't think I've forgotten." He bowed his head a touch, keeping as much of the mocking out of it as possible. "Good bye, Kira."

-----

Light stared at the door as it closed. It felt that he saw nothing but closing doors, lately. Literally and metaphorically.

He closed his eyes, mind spinning with revelations.

Perhaps he should kill L now, write his name and be done with it. It would be expedient. It would be sensible. But would it matter, with the new threats on the horizon?

It was gut-wrenching and thrilling and turned all his plans upside-down, at least for the moment.

He would let L go, he decided suddenly, eyes opening slowly. Keep an eye on him, of course, because he really could not trust L's words. He must be planning something.

Perhaps if he watched him closely enough, L would lead him to the others. He would win, of course. He _had _to win. The world needed him.

----

L took a deep breath, standing on the steps of Wammy's orphanage. For the first time since he was adopted, perhaps, the air _smelled _clean. The world looked fresh. Full of opportunity.

Kira would watch him. Of that he was certain. It didn't bother him though, because he didn't plan on doing anything damaging to him or to anyone important. That was done.

For once he didn't lie to Kira. There was no use in being L, being a detective in that sense anymore. His heirs would clean up the messes he had left and couldn't fix. He regretted that, of course. He wanted to help his heirs, to guide them as best he could. However, they had been chosen for a reason and he could no longer let that regret paralyze him. He could still do something, something valuable. And for the first time he felt he could truly choose what that something would be.

He felt himself smiling, genuinely, as he began walking towards the town.


	10. Epilogue

A/N: As promised, the epilogue. Very short, but it ties up loose ends and clarifies juuust a bit. The story stands alone without it, though! :)

One last thank-you to all my readers! You rock my socks~

-----

The whole world was changing, day by day.

"Sugar?"

"Yes, please." L smiled at the doctor sitting next to him, thanking him as he passed the sugar. He put several spoonfuls into his tea, stirring it carefully.

He never expected to be here, to be sharing a meal with Tenma and Nina and all their friends. It wasn't as if he fit in with them, had shared the same experiences they had. Only, somehow, he _did_ fit.

It was spring in Germany again. Everywhere seemed full of flowers and greenery and life. The table was no exception, laden with bowls full of food and fruit and flowers that Nina, Dieter, and Tenma had picked on a long walk earlier that morning. Even the air was full of animated conversation and laughter. It surrounded him, turned the afternoon air gold-brilliant and poignant.

L smiled at Dieter, who was teasing Nina mercilessly about her reaction to Tenma's visit; a reaction that she still hotly denied. Nina was blushing but also giving as good as she got, ribbing Dieter about the girlfriend he had acquired sometime in the last few weeks. Dr. Reichwein was talking excitedly with Dr. Tenma about his latest research paper – an excellent study on the progression of brain diseases in undeveloped areas.

"You're living in Paris now?" Tenma asked him, making L start a bit, turning to him and slipping out of his reverie.

"Yes." He smiled. "When I'm not traveling for work, that is."

Tenma nodded, understandingly. "I heard you just got back from Rwanda recently. How is your research going?"

"Quite well, actually. I'm planning the first article for sometime in early fall." Somehow, he had fallen into a career – not only writing about the atrocities in Germany, but in the rest of the world as well.

Tenma smiled. "Your pieces on Kinderheim were really well-written, you know."

"Thank you." L murmured, finding that he meant it. He had published several articles, under Grimmer's name, about the orphanage and others similar to it, as well as more personal biographies of the Kinderheim alumni he could find information on. Grimmer himself had done much of the research and even some of the writing, but L had added quite a bit of his own work, blending it into a seamless whole.

"Your piece on Grimmer especially." Tenma said, just a touch wistfully. L understood the feeling – he himself regretted not knowing the man better, after spending so much time with his writings. That article he had created out of whole cloth, interviews with Tenma and Suk and everyone else who had known Grimmer. The end result had been a private tribute to the boy who became the Magnificent Steiner, the final piece in his series.

L nodded, accepting the praise without really feeling it, lapsing into silence for a long moment. He had never expected to grieve for the man, having never even known him; but somehow he had grown to care for him posthumously.

Finally, he threw it off, eyes once again meeting the doctor's. "Has there been any word from Johan?" He kept his voice quiet, eyes flickering to Nina. It was a regret that he didn't have enough to expose the earliest years of their training. Perhaps someday.

"None yet." It had been three years since the end of the case, two since Johan had woken up and disappeared. L marveled a bit at the note of hope in the doctor's voice, the way his eyes grew softly troubled, worrying.

"Kenzou-san. You want him to come back, don't you?" He switched to Japanese, conscious of the way Dr. Reichwein's eyes focused on them appraisingly.

Tenma's eyes widened and he let out a breath, shrugging just the tiniest bit. "Nina wants to forgive him."

It was the easy way out and they both knew it. Still, L let it pass, nodding and sipping the sweet tea in his hands. "And how is your research going?" Back to German and to the light pleasantries that didn't seem as inconsequential as they once had.

The doctor's face lit up just a bit and he smiled. "Oh… well enough, I suppose." His voice was modest, even a bit depreciating, but L had learned enough to know that Tenma had been making considerable progress.

"That's wonderful. I look forward to your next paper. The last one was quite fascinating, you know."

"You read my last study?" Tenma half-laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You must have been terribly bored. I'm not a very good writer, unlike you."

"Nonsense." L waved the doctor's modesty off. "And you manage to write like that and still act as a doctor. You have more skill than I, by far."

Tenma lowered his eyes modestly, shaking his head. "Did you hear the news about Kira?"

Kira's name was on the front page of the paper that morning. L had turned away before reading the article. He believed it had said something about assassination. Whether it was successful or just an attempt – he hadn't the heart to check. Nor did he particularly want to know right now, surrounded by friends. He shrugged a little. "I'm sure I'll read about it later."

Tenma's eyes reached his again, understandingly. "I'm sure."

L leaned back in his chair, gratefully, as the doctor steered the conversation back to more pleasant topics, watched as Nina stood and left the table, coming back with a large, decadently frosted cake. That, of course, made him sit up with renewed interest.

Perhaps the world was not changing _too_ much.


End file.
